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Commentaries on the Fourth War, Chapter 4
This is Chapter 4 of Sir Edrington W. Grunwald's book, the Commentaries on the Fourth War. Chapter 4: The Tipping Point The Burning of Teldrassil marks the beginning of the Fourth War. However, it would be incredibly unprofessional to directly jump straight to the climactic end of what is known as the War of the Thorns. The leading up to this regional conflict, where the fuse finally met the proverbial powder keg, gives understanding behind the tactics of Queen Sylvanas, the nature of the Fourth War, and where the battle lines would be drawn throughout Azeroth. Above all else, it is essential to view the lessons and experiences from the War of the Thorns not as simple dichotomies of good versus evil or honorable versus dishonorable. Instead, the speed and efficiency with which the Banshee Queen’s Horde marched through kaldorei lands, combined with the implementation of deceit to fool the Alliance into mobilizing forces towards Feralas and Silithus, should be studied and countered. It was through careful planning and cunning stratagems that the Horde achieved victory in Ashenvale, Darkshore, and ultimately Teldrassil. Those lessons, much like the sacrifices made by the brave defenders of the kaldorei lands, must not be forgotten. First, a brief explanation of the faction’s army compositions, something which I have neglected to speak of in great length up until now. My only answer for this oversight is the need to focus on the political and economic narrative in the lead up to the declaration of war, for it is now that we embark on an in-depth study of the Alliance and Horde’s capacity for war in the strictest of senses. I begin with the large-scale picture: the theaters and how, in turn, geographic limitations led the Banshee Queen to pick Teldrassil as the target of her first strike. Indeed, I argue that the choice to invade and lay siege to the kaldorei territories in Kalimdor was anything but arbitrary, with several key factors playing into the Horde’s attack on the elven lands. Consider the kaldorei’s proximity to the Horde’s capital at Orgrimmar, Teldrassil’s dominance over the northern trade routes of Kalimdor, and the relative isolation of the kaldorei homelands from the remainder of the Grand Alliance in the Eastern Kingdoms as the most pertinent points – for all three played a vital part in the Horde’s victory in the west. The Banshee Queen could not allow her flanks in the west to be exposed to an elven offensive, nor could she afford to lose the support and legitimacy granted by bringing the orcs of Kalimdor under her banner, for surely an invasion of the orc’s long-time foes would prove popular among their people. Furthermore, the kaldorei’s position along the northern Great Sea presented a threat to the Queen’s hold on the remainder of Kalimdor, for elven fleets could easily strike out at Horde trade routes heading east. Finally, much like the draenei, the kaldorei have always been relatively separated from the remainder of the Alliance geographically, ensuring that any allied response from the east would take time to organize and execute. A Horde invasion of the elven westlands would promise continental security and near complete hegemony over Kalimdor. Logistically, it offered ease of organization and deployment, for Horde forces would not have to go very far to reach the kaldorei territories. It was this fact that proved troublesome to the Banshee Queen, for any major maneuver out of Orgrimmar was readily detected by the Alliance’s networks of spies and observers in the western continent. Therefore, Queen Sylvanas and her war council executed a cunning ruse. Early reports showed that her army, numbering at least 20,000, with a great part of this contingent stemming from the orc clans of Orgrimmar and the undead legions of Lordaeron, marched south towards the previously mentioned territories closest to the scar of the arch-demon’s blade in Silithus. However, after a few days march, where by now any reports logged by spies in service to the Alliance would be on their way to Stormwind City, the Horde’s legions turned sharply to the north-west, diverting at the northernmost fork in the Barrens and heading towards Ashenvale. What’s more, the Banshee Queen’s war host conscripted more fighters from outlying settlements and outposts, reportedly enlarging her army to 40,000 soldiers strong. Queen Sylvanas clearly capitalized on the time it would take for the Grand Alliance to receive news of her move towards the elven westlands, combining this element of surprise with a strategy restrained only by the common desire to avoid another great war: the art of total war. Total war is the waging of warfare in its most brutal totality. Under this definition, every man, woman, and child are a part of the war effort and, in turn, a viable military target. Every home is a barracks, every tavern a storehouse, every crop is destined to go to the enemy army, every forest suitable for siege engines, every road a viable military highway. Nothing is left untouched, no site too holy or sacrosanct to escape the ultimate price of death and destruction. Up until the War of the Thorns, seldom has Azeroth known such a style of war between the Horde and the Alliance. Even Pandaria, that last great conflagration between the powers, was comparatively restrained to the brutality demonstrated by the Horde on their march into Ashenvale. Orc warriors, clad in segmented plate, chainmail, and hardened leathers, armed with sword, cleaver, and war-axe, cut a bloody swathe through the elven sentinels, warriors of great speed, dexterity, and skill in the martial arts. Undead assassins reportedly sneaked past the kaldorei defenses, skulking along village roads and preying upon passing soldiers and civilians alike with foul poisons and sharpened daggers. Horde war machines, savage demolishers crafted with iron and wood and powered by powerful fires roaring wildly in their make-shift engines, trundled down the forest highways and maintained by the eccentric goblin folk that made them. Salvo upon salvo of flaming rock dumped into flammable tars and set alight, or iron bomblets filled with explosives and sticky alchemical fires, shrieked under Ashenvale’s thick canopy and collided violently with elven homesteads and walls. Skilled sin’dorei archers and mages, trained with unparalleled martial capacity for lightning warfare using the arcane and armored in their traditional cultural garb of bright reds and resplendent golds, fell countless defenders and retreating civilians. Able troll and tauren shamans and druids, summoning forth the will of the spirits and gods they worship, tended to their army’s wounded and divined victory through the power of the elements. Together, as never before, the Horde war machine marched on through Ashenvale in a matter of days. It was only at the border with Darkshore where the Banshee Queen’s bands stopped, halted there by a rapidly reorganizing elven army and the work of their people’s druidic defenders. For in the wake of the news that Queen Sylvanas planned to send an army to Silithus did the kaldorei send a force to combat the Horde and contest their claim to the region. However, this was again part of the Banshee Queen’s ruse, distracting a great portion of the elven army and forcing the kaldorei to rely on their less experience home guards. It was by some measure of providence that the kaldorei fleets returned as hastily as they did, undeterred by storm or ill winds. Upon landing, it was in Darkshore that the remnants of the Horde vanguard that had broken through the border and the recently returned kaldorei army fought for supremacy of the region. While the Horde’s vanguard was greatly reduced, perhaps to 20,000 strong, the elven forces were still in disarray and could only muster a defense of roughly 10,000 warriors under arms. Still, the kaldorei defenders boasted one definite advantage: these were their homelands, and thus they knew the terrain all too well. The elven god and spirits, their very essence weaved into the heart of the woodlands, made the Horde’s march through Darkshore a living nightmare. As sentinels, female fighters clad in light mails and leathers and wielding fearsome spears, glaives, and swords, joined the battle-line, so too did massive trees, seeming to sprout up from their roots and march on wooden legs, and the energy of a thousand wisps, souls flying through the materium in the wake of the massacres in Ashenvale, join the elven defense. War machines were also brought to bear, not to mention the skilled legions of elven archers and riders that joined to make a fearsome force whose strengths lay in quick and agile fighting both in pitched battles and in irregular warfare. Although outnumbered, the kaldorei were prepared to hold off the Horde invaders for as long as necessary, as it was believed then in those closing days of midsummer that the Alliance, upon receiving word of this assault by the Banshee Queen, would mobilize in time to break the siege of Darkshore and relieve the defenders at Lor’danel, the province’s capital. Fighting, at least for a week’s time, stabilized around the Wildbend River, a raging waterway rendered relatively impassible since the Great Cataclysm years prior. Both sides dug in, entrenching their position and refusing to give ground. By now, although the Alliance had not sent a formal response to the westlands invasion, many local adventurers and mercenaries, eager to take up the cause of the kaldorei’s defense, were hastily enlisted into make-shift companies sent out to cause harm to the Horde’s war effort. Meanwhile, the Horde’s advance guard set out to cut a path through the elven defenses, occasionally making contact and skirmishing with Alliance parties out in the thick of Darkshore’s woods. With the initial surprise of the Horde’s attack now wearing off, this pattern of skirmishing and flare-ups at the Wildbend River persisted as neither side was unable to gain a sizable advantage over the other. For my part, I was sent ahead at the counsel of a close friend and ally, Sir Markus Stonewall, to reconnoiter the front and hold the position until a relief force arrived. Also, I had already made plans before the invasion to meet with another friend, one Lieutenant Commander Lilliaana Silverleaf of the kaldorei army, and conduct research for this very work in situ. It was shortly after arriving that I gained an understanding of the post-invasion situation, and I will admit to feeling a general sense of dread at the situation. Still, although not having originally intended to take up arms, I felt compelled to join the defense alongside the kaldorei. Though the details of my adventures in the westlands are of little importance, I will detail some of the sights and experiences I had while joining the campaign there, if only to provide a more vivid picture of the front. I wrote of the main lines near the Wildbend River, where forces from the kaldorei army and the Horde engaged in a prolonged stalemate. Fellow allies among the kaldorei provided information regarding the remainder of the theater. To the south, the Horde had camped near the border on furbolg territory. Word of Horde attacks on the local furbolg tribes spread far and wide, driving many of the creatures to madness in their grief and anger at the transgression. The kaldorei, for their part, held on to a significant portion of the province. They maintained many ancient groves and dens, holding them as key forward bases and staging points for the fighting at the front. Lor’danel was heavily reinforced. I walked along the beaches of Darkshore, witnessing armies of kaldorei with their transport ships in tow. These were the armies once destined for Silithus and Feralas, now in full kit and redirected to defend the homeland. Many I spoke with seemed concerned and overwhelmed by the daunting odds. This is not to say the kaldorei acted cowardly, for they were anything but. However, it shows that Queen Sylvanas’ strategy in conducting a brutal lightning-fast assault proved effective, as the morale of the night elves was noticeably damaged in the aftermath of the onslaught. Nevertheless, there was a pervading fury that surged above that fear and grief. A rage aimed at the foreign invader, one which threatened to take all the kaldorei had accomplished in Kalimdor. That combined fury, of both invader and defender, elf and black blood, culminated on the 31st day of July in the year 628 in the King’s Calendar. ‘Twas on that day that word came that a large contingent of Horde forces, no doubt the remaining 20,000 or so warriors of the main army, had marched through the province of Felwood and over the mountains. Cutting through the relatively undefended paths, surviving the crossing and assembling in north-eastern Darkshore, both prongs of Queen Sylvanas’ army were then poised to strike at Lor’danel and encircle the kaldorei army. So it was that at the behest of their leader, Malfurion Stormrage, that the night elves gave ground at the Wildbend River and came under the command of a local garrison commander, one Captain Delaryn Summermoon. There on the roads leading to Lor’danel was the final stand made against the Horde onslaught, as a weak force of some remaining 5,000 or 8,000 kaldorei, coupled with civilian militias composed of elven and Gilnean peoples, held their ground at the town center. At a distance, I could see small Horde assault craft flying in the skies above, with small parties of troops leaping down and deploying large parachutes to slowly float down to the earth below and ruin to all in sundry. No man, woman, or child, whether with or without arms to defend themselves, were deemed enemies of the red banners and subsequently slain on the spot. Very few prisoners were taken into bondage, for the Horde preferred to advance quickly rather than delay with the taking of captives. Fires raged in Lor’danel for hours, with kaldorei morale holding until grave news reached the defenders. For it was that some miles away, in a clearing on the outskirts of Lor’danel, so it is rumored, that Malfurion Stormrage sought to confront the Banshee Queen and her cohort. Taking up arms against the Queen, Malfurion reportedly engaged her in single combat, dueling her and claiming the advantage. However, it was at some point in this engagement that a blow was struck upon the great druid, the hand that held the blade which wounded him coming from a bodyguard of the Queen or one of her lieutenants – many believing it may have been the fearsome general and orcish war-leader Varok Saurfang himself. What transpired afterwards is mostly unknown, but I speculate that a lull in the fighting allowed for the safe return of Malfurion and his wife and fellow ruler of the shared kaldorei throne Tyrande Whisperwind. Words were supposedly exchanged between the grief-stricken Tyrande and the warrior-general Varok, ones which we can only imagine in the present. I attempt to do so now, based solely and what little I and others could gather in the wake of the battle. After the wounding of Malfurion at the hands of Varok Saurfang, Tyrande Whisperwind, lover and ruler of the kaldorei people, approached the warrior and readied herself for a confrontation. “Stay your weapons,” declared Varok, “for I do not come here seeking further injustice on this field. For lo’, see there – your husband, bloody and undone. Instead, I present you with the reality of this present situation: leave now and do not return. For our armies will march upon the World Tree, mighty Teldrassil, and we shall conquer it in the name of the Horde. I regret the strike I have made, for it shames my clan and people, but I will not shirk from battle if you persist in presenting a challenge to me!” Filled with grief and anger, Tyrande remained alert and prepared to do battle, unflinching in the cause of her people’s defense. “You speak of shame, orc! Indeed, the greatest shame upon you and your kind! You have come here, laying waste to all we have accomplished in this land, destroying our homes and reducing our people to mere ash. We are a proud race, ancient and strong, and you must think me all the fool to simply surrender in the face of adversity.” A moment passes, perhaps a sudden realization. “Yet, I will not be blinded by pride. My folk suffers, and as their leader, I will not surrender – nay, I will rally them and return with the vengeance and fury of the moon Goddess herself. Remain there in shame, orc, as I take up our banner in this darkest time.” At that moment wounded Malfurion and Tyrande escaped, with Varok reportedly accepting the shame of his dishonor by violating the duel undertaken by the rulers of the elves and the undead. With their departure, little else remained for the kaldorei to do except rally what forces remained and resist the inevitable Horde occupation. As the Horde readied their war machines, bringing many battered but still serviceable elven ships to shore to prepare for the crossing, Queen Sylvanas spoke with her commanders and decided upon a change in the plan of action. She would not claim the capital of the kaldorei, she would not desecrate their temples, she would not destroy their walls and erect new ones. Instead, in an unknown change of heart, the Banshee Queen surrendered to her darkest nightmares and chose to burn the whole of the tree down. Teldrassil, that mighty giant and pillar of Azeroth, withstood the mightiest of bombardments. Horde catapults and cannon, filled with incendiary shot and missile, fired across the strait and blasted mercilessly against the trunk of Teldrassil. Hurling salvos, shrieking across the smoke-choked skies, landed with great fury unto the streets of Darnassus, setting fire to the ancient capital and reducing it to rubble. Again, one can only guess what words passed her lips, but surely the Banshee Queen must have justified her actions, as grossly savage as they were, to her legions. Once more, I present an interpretation based on conjecture. While standing on the beaches of Darkshore, eyes fixed upon the World Tree of Teldrassil, the undead Banshee Queen turned to her cohorts and pointed to the home of the kaldorei. “Soldiers of the Horde, behold there the sight that has oppressed us for so long. For years, it has been that city, home to the night elves and their allies, that has pressed our backs and threatened to overwhelm the northlands. It is from there that the kaldorei legions march to Ashenvale and the Stonetalon Mountains. It is there that the boy-king of the humans, King Anduin, will marshal his people and march upon our homes. We cannot allow such treachery to transpire – verily, the only way to end this war, here and now, is to bring peace once and for all.” “So look there, soldiers of the Horde, champions of our cause, and make it so that the sight of Teldrassil never offends our kind again. I order our machines forward so that they may bombard their capital and lay waste to it. Make the fires that will burn there reach the heavens, so that no being, mortal or otherwise, doubts the strength of our people. Ensure that only ashes will remain, so that they may coat the earth and make wastes of this land. Once done, let us finish our business here by salting the fields of Darkshore and Ashenvale so that not even weeds will grow in memory of the kaldorei. Do not think this impossible, for we are the Horde! Let none challenge us hereafter and may the remainder of the Alliance speak of us only in fearful and hushed tones. Let them yield before us, so that we may endure and finally, after years of struggle, secure our rightful dominance over Azeroth. Death to the kaldorei, death to the Alliance, all the glory to the Horde!” One can only estimate the amount of dead following the destruction of Darnassus and the burning of Teldrassil. A few citizens in the capital and the shore-line settlements had already evacuated, but it can be said with certainty that more perished than were saved. Roughly, 15,000 or 20,000 people called the kaldorei capital home, but these are conservative numbers. Survivors brought to the human capital of Stormwind City by way of portals cast by the magi and priests of Elune’s temples, numbered only in the thousands. At least half of the city’s population, some tens of thousands, perished in flames. For myself, I was ashore during the burning of the tree, assisting in the evacuation of Lor’danel, wherein many more headed back to the capital in search of refuge and sanctuary. When the bombardment began, it was reported that many of the kaldorei struggled to put out fires throughout the city. Blood ran through the streets like boiling rivers, with bodies piling up in burning homes and blocking entryways. In desperation, many people chose to rush through the flames, only to be burned alive in their effort. Women, bearing babes and children in their breast on high rooftops, cried out to those below to take their kin while they suffered. When no aide was found, the shrieks of falling bodies followed, as many chose a quicker end than choking on the black smoke. Those rescued had to maneuver through burning bridges, falling trees, and ways strewn with debris and corpses. Countless toppled over from exhaustion or deprivation of clean air, creating obstacles and blocking escape routes. The whole of the city reeked of burning wood and flesh, mixed with strangely sweet incense from crumbling stores and abodes. In the chaotic hours that followed, witnesses stated that sentinels, priests, and adventurers all together ushered the surviving populace towards the large temple in the city’s center, the Temple of the Moon. ‘Twas there that another horror developed, as the gateway was crammed with hordes of bodies attempting to reach the portals to safety. Horde artillery came crashing down through the tree’s canopy on to the masses below, sending them in all directions. The path to the Temple became slick with blood and ash, tripping many and causing a great collapse on the way there. I assisted on the beaches of Darkshore wherever I could. Not being a man of medicine, I opted to keep those I could calm and fight back any Horde that dared threaten the survivors. It was a crushing sight to see the World Tree in the distance, that final bastion of hope, set alight by a bombardment the likes of which I had never seen. When we finally left the shores aboard a small vessel, headed towards the rest of the kaldorei fleet near Azuremyst, Commander Silverleaf approached the helm. As fire consumed Teldrassil, I elected to ready my flying machine so that I could take messages from the kaldorei remnant to Stormwind. When I prepared to depart, Silverleaf uttered, “Her children scream. Can you hear it? Elune cries.” As she wandered away, her compatriots offered me better instruction, with the overall commander of their contingent, Commander Katiera Shadowblade, refusing to back away from a confrontation with the Horde. Knowing this, I flew quickly to the ships off-shore, hoping to bring word and much-needed aide. As I made my way high above, elven hippogryphs, many carrying escaping civilians, caught fire along Darkshore’s canopy and hurtled down to the ground, their living cargo in tow. Those that did survive were assailed by Horde gunships and sky riders aboard beast and machine alike. Fire was exchanged, bracketing the air with exploding missiles from the ground below and interceptors high above. After trading shots with some of the Horde’s fighters, I spotted a break in the fighting and made for open water, heading to the nearby staging point where awaiting kaldorei vessels lingered with refugees on board. From there, a portal was created and, finally, I crossed the threshold and arrived with the refugees in Stormwind. I have written of Queen Sylvanas’ strategies at length in this work, describing how her cunning ploy to feint an attack on Kalimdor’s southlands caught the kaldorei and the remainder of the Alliance off-guard. I wrote of her reasons for this invasion, from securing the northern waterways, to establishing her dominance among her allies in the Horde and aiming to break the most ancient spirit of the Alliance’s staunchest and wisest of member nations. However, while the destruction of Teldrassil may be interpreted as a strategically sound choice, ensuring that the Horde would now have near-complete dominance of the west, it cannot be justified morally in any way, shape, or form. I argue that the same can be said for some of the more doubtful races among the Horde, among which I count all except the undead. Indeed, I believe that even the most loyal of supporters to the idea of the Horde’s confederation, namely the orcs and trolls, may too doubt the motives of Queen Sylvanas and her right to rule. Her move to attempt and secure her place as Warchief, especially through this shameful act which I deem as the clear and apparent targeted destruction of the kaldorei people, will only haunt her in the months to come. This outrageous use of violence, used only to advance her personal goals and political security, shall ostracize her from both the Alliance and the Horde. Perhaps out of necessity, the Horde’s many races will remain under her banner – a desire to see what has been started to completion, ‘lest they tempt equally destructive reprisals from the Alliance. Nevertheless, the proverbial line in the sand was drawn. Queen Sylvanas made herself an enemy of all self-respecting civilizations, and the Alliance chose to answer in kind. Indeed, if future generations must point to any one person to identify who started this war and, by extension, catapulted it to such extremes never seen before in the realms of mortals, I provide the Banshee Queen as a suitable answer. In the words of His Majesty, King Anduin, in an address to his people following the Burning of Teldrassil, he declared thus: “People of the Alliance – citizens, friends! Hear me now! You have all shown great courage and heart on this, one of the Alliance’s darkest days. My whole life, I have prayed for peace in this world. But, alas, that dream can never be realized so long as Sylvanas Windrunner leads the Horde. She expects this atrocity to crush our spirits. Shatter our unity. But this I vow: The Alliance will endure, and the Banshee Queen’s insidious reign will be ended.” With those words, the Fourth War began in earnest, and the true suffering of this monumental conflict commenced. It was now the Alliance’s turn to go on the offensive and avenge the souls of the fallen at Teldrassil. Category:Books Category:History Category:Blood War